After Rescue
by October Sky
Summary: They were only supposed to be on the island for a few hours. Even after rescue it still felt as though their lives were being controlled by the island, that every step they took and every second of the day revolved around the past.


Title: After Rescue

Rated: PG

Status: Completed

**Spoilers: This is set after the third season finale**

Summary: They were only supposed to be on the island for a few hours and now it was three months later. Even after rescue it still felt as though their lives were being controlled by the island, that every step they took and every second of the day revolved around the past.

Disclaimer: _Lost_ belongs to J.J. Abrams and co. at Bad Robot and ABC.

His eyes danced across the audience, landing on each individual set of eyes with a force that made him feel nauseated. He felt sweat drip from his face, it felt as though the room temperature had suddenly shot up. The heat tugged at the color of his suit jacket, his trembling hands adjusted the position of his tie. He blinked, and when his eyes opened he expected to be facing the ocean, staring at the horizon with the sun beating down against his neck, shallow waters snapping at his ankles. His eyes opened and he still found himself sitting in the conference room with hundreds of cameras and reporters waiting for him to speak.

They were only supposed to be on the island for a few hours and now it was three months later. Even after rescue it still felt as though their lives were being controlled by the island, that every step they took and every second of the day revolved around the past. Now Jack was being ask to talk about it, about every moment and event on the island to people who would have no idea of whom he was talking about. They have only seen pictures, were only given brief summaries of their lives. They knew nothing of who the survivors of Oceanic Flight 815 were or what they'd been through.

He swallowed, remembering waking up that morning and hoping he wouldn't have a voice, that he would be ill and wouldn't have to face this humiliating and insulting conference. Couldn't they just leave them in peace? Didn't they realize that now, a month after rescue, they still haven't been able to find closure with what happened to them? And maybe they never would.

But still he must talk. He opened his mouth, uncertain of what would come out. Maybe he would be sick.

"When we first hit turbulence..." a good beginning, but it must be ruined by his nerves. By the pain that shakes his voice, his thoughts, pain from the memories that still feel so real. That are real. "We thought we would be fine. But a few hours later...no one was prepared for what we went through. Yes, we made mistakes, and I'm sure you've heard stories," and suddenly he felt the need to defend, because there had been stories. Stories of murders, of kidnappings and wrongdoings that no one who hadn't been on the island understood. "But the life that we lived on that island, that we were forced to live, was not a normal life. We faced obstacles that we could have never imagined..."

Again his eyes trail the audience, considering their thoughts. Were they thinking of the late night they had ahead of them, writing a report on what little information Jack would offer them? Because there was no way in hell that he would tell them the whole story.

But their faces do not look bored; they look interested, because this is the most factual information they've received. This wasn't photos of the victims or the survivors, or tales of their lives before the crash. For the first time Jack had, for some reason he still did not understand, agreed to offer them their first insight into life on the island.

Then his eyes found her. Like he'd expected her to be there and he knew exactly where she would be sitting. But he hadn't seen her, not in a couple of weeks, not since that night at the airport. And he never expected to see her here. Here, where she would be forced to confront the past and what happened to them. Where she would be forced to see him; and she's not even looking at him. Her head's bowed, brown curly hair hiding her face and the make-up she's begun wearing, as though she can start her life over after the island with a simple layer of eye shadow. He wondered if she was crying, and she didn't want him to see. Or maybe she was just as ashamed as he was. After all she was in the back, shoved into a corner, wishing to be forgotten.

He swallowed, blinked. This time he didn't expect to still be on the island; now he was aware of reality, of how real it was.

"If you're looking for answers or explanations, just know that none of this was our fault," he continued. His eyes lingered on Kate's lowered head for another moment, hoping she might look up and catch his eye. When she never did he at last looked away; maybe he could try again a few moments later. "We weren't prepared for what we had to face, we didn't go through any training. We're normal people, just like you. And now...now our lives will never be the same."

That had to be good enough. It did have to be, because he refused to say any more. Looking down, Jack waited a moment before stepping down from the short stage. He walked out of the building without asking for any questions.

Warm sun greeted him as he threw open the doors and stepped into the parking lot. Any moment the reporters would be following him, and he had to get away.

"Jack!"

He froze, and even the fear of being ambushed by cameras couldn't stop him from turning around. He'd been waiting too long to hear her voice again; even when he was angry at her all he wanted to do was talk to her. And now she was running towards him, throwing her arms around him. He closed his eyes, burying his face into her shoulder, and he knew she did the same. A familiar flash of light ignited through his closed eyelids, and he closed his eyes tighter, fighting to escape the world he had been thrown into.


End file.
